


The Bus Lovers

by CartoonJessie



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Bus, F/M, Storybrooke, Storybrooke AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-09 08:17:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 15,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5532290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CartoonJessie/pseuds/CartoonJessie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Until miss French arrived in Storybrooke, mister Gold's daily bus trips were rather uneventful. But Gold has to admit that he is quite taken by the foreign beauty... If only it wasn't so unusual to talk to strangers on the bus!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The New Passenger

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Monkess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monkess/gifts).



Storybrooke was possibly the most predictable town in the northern hemisphere. Nothing new ever happened there. 

Sure, there was the occasional birth or death, and some young people moved away and often did not return until they were old. But to mister Gold, it was as though every day was the same. 

Ever since his old car had failed him earlier that winter, mister Gold no longer trusted the thing to get him to work - not while it was as cold as most Novembers were in Storybrooke. Wrapped up in his long cloak, with leather gloves and a luxurious silk scarf around his neck, he stood waiting for the bus, just down the small road that led to his cabin.

Sure, he could afford a new car. He owned most of Storybrooke as it was. But the old car held some sentimental value and he wasn't willing to part with it just yet. Not to mention that he had not  yet found a reason to complain about the local bus - and that was a rare feat indeed, for mister Gold always found something to complain about when he wanted to.

But he had no real troubles with settling for less than he could afford. After all, he now lived in his cabin. His old pink estate had become too big for him, and when his son had announced he wanted to return to Storybrooke, he had offered it to him and his wife and grandson in a heartbeat. It was the least he could do, and he appreciated the fact that he now no longer felt like a complete stranger in Storybrooke. He went to his son's place on every Sunday, and his daughter-in-law Emma Swan often dropped by during lunch break to share some leftovers. Henry helped out in the shop after school hours. Not that there was so much the boy could do, for the shop was always in an impeccable state, but it meant that Neal and Emma did not need to look for a babysit. 

His cabin lay rather isolated in the woods, but it was as comfortable as could be. Small, but cozy and warm. Warmer than the bus stop was. 

Luckily, the bus driver, mister Dove, had impeccable timing. He was never late and today was no exception. As the small bus stopped in front of him and opened its doors, mister Gold leaned his cane on the steps before he pulled himself up and entered and flashed his bus card. Mister Dove nodded, Gold nodded back, and he turned to sit on his usual seat, the first seat behind the bus driver. He startled, however, when he noticed another passenger was already sitting there. 

She was young, or at least much younger than him - Emma's age - with a white woolen hat over her brown curls - her blue eyes curiously looking into his, and she was offering him a good-natured smile. 

For a single moment he was stunned by her open and inquisitive gaze, but the next he looked away from her and frowned to himself, trying to still the butterflies in his stomach. 

Who even was she? 

He sat down two seats behind her, not taking his eyes off her back as he tried to figure out who she was and where she came from. He knew that there was one stop before his, but he had never known anyone to get on at that stop. There were some cabins there - most of them vacated in winters - and some of them got rented out in summers to some tourists - not that Storybrooke ever had many. Was she a tourist?

If she was, then she would never accidentally take his seat again, but if this was to become a regular thing, then he would hate to see her take up his seat every day from now on. He felt rather possessive about where he sat and he didn't like it when someone broke his habits for him. 

The bus drove around the outskirts of Storybrooke, even past Rumford's old estate, and picked up a few more passengers along the way. Doctor Archibald Hopper was one of them, the town psychologist. Then there was Marco, the handyman of City Hall. Finally Mulan got on, just as Marco got off again at City Hall. Next stop was the library. Doctor Hopper got off, and mister Dove turned around. 

"Your stop," he told the woman, and she nodded eagerly before she picked up her large bag and dusted off her white cloak.

"Thank you so much!" she said warmly as she turned to mister Dove, then turned around and got off with a spring in her step, and mister Gold did not take his eyes off her as the bus continued, noticing how she walked towards the library. 

His stop was only a few hundred meters further and he nodded to mister Dove before he got off, still wondering who the strange beauty was and if he would ever see her again. 

 

That evening, Mulan was already sitting on the last row of the bus, not looking at him as he got on, and mister Gold sat down on his usual spot again, relieved that it was his once more. He gazed out the window towards the library, his heart jumping again when he spotted her - the young woman with the white cloak and the white woolen hat, appearing much smaller than he had noticed that morning. 

As she flashed a Storybrooke bus card, mister Gold raised his eyebrows. A bus card had to mean that she was more than just a tourist - she was a resident. She even said "good evening!" to mister Dove. A waste of energy, Gold thought, since mister Dove never bothered to say anything unless it was absolutely necessary or demanded of him. 

Now she was the one to startle a little when she spotted him sitting in the spot where she had sat that morning, but instead of moving further along the small bus, she sat on the other side of the isle, taking a book from her bag and continuing her reading.

Mister Gold was watching her from the corner of his eye, trying not to turn his head at all. He would hate for her to see.

Mulan got off again, Marco got on, then off again, and then they were alone in the bus again, for another twenty minutes, until Gold would reach his stop, and a minute later or so she would reach hers. 

He wondered if he would see her again the next day, and when mister Dove pulled over the bus at his stop, he stood up and leaned on his cane as he headed to the front of the bus again, startling a little when he heard her say: "Have a good evening!" 

He was so flabbergasted that he had no idea what to respond, and in a reaction of mild panic he hurried off the bus, his hands shaking as he heard the door shut behind him and the bus continue its ride. 

"Idiot!" he muttered to himself, walking back to his cabin. He feared that he had appeared as socially incompetent as mister Dove. 


	2. Silent Readers

The second morning, he found her sitting in the front row again, but not behind the driver, but on the other side of the isle. 

  
_Good_ , he thought to himself. She had learned where his spot was, and she had respected it. 

"Morning," she said softly, her voice hardly more than a whisper, and he replied just as softly, glad he didn't freak out this time. 

She already had a book in her lap and continued reading as he sat down, and he smiled softly as he took a small book from his own pocket and opened it. 

He could now sense how she was watching him, how she had spotted the book in his lap like a dog would have spotted a string of sausages. 

  
_Good_ , he thought to himself once more. She wasn't the only one that could be mysterious. 

Soon enough, they were both turning the pages of their books, and when the bus got slightly fuller again, neither of them looked up, but they just sat there reading. 

In the evening, he beat her to it, his book in his lap as she entered, and when he looked up he noticed how her gaze had been on him already. And she was smiling again, like he was a sight for sore eyes, and he did not understand how anyone could look at him like that. When she said "Evening" - her voice gentle once more - he forgot to say anything back again. By the time he wanted to say something, she had already sat down and pulled out her own book. He'd missed yet another chance, but the evening was not just over yet.

As he got out, he offered her a gentle smile, but he noticed that her gaze had flitted down to the book he was holding, trying to read a title. 

  
_Sneaky girl_ , he thought to himself. _Curious girl._  


"Good evening," he said softly, and this time she was the one that was too slow to respond, for he rushed off the bus again before she had a chance to say something. 

He grinned as he walked back to his cabin. _Good._ He surely didn't mind getting the last word.

 

As the week went on, he knew that she was trying to figure out what he was reading in the bus. Her gaze always shot to the book when he bid her a good evening, and he made sure his hand always covered up the title. 

He hardly even knew himself why he was doing that. Wasn't that proper bus etiquette? If anything, then he needed to admit that he quite liked taunting the bookish woman. 

A week went by and he finished one book, then went on to the next. He had also noticed that she read at least five times as many books as he did. She had a new one with her every other day or so. 

In the first week of December, he noticed one morning that she hadn't opened her book yet, but instead had it laying in her lap, and when he entered the bus and she said: "Good morning", he merely nodded in return. Taking the book from the large inside pocket in his coat, he noticed that her eyes were on him, and as he turned to look at her, he expected her to look away. That would be the proper bus etiquette, after all. 

But instead, her eyes were glued to his, and she remarked: "I notice you didn't get those books from the library!"

He frowned, a little upset she would break the unspoken code of bus behavior. Had he actually given her remark some thought, he wouldn't have replied so cruelly.

"Like there are any books worth reading in Storybrooke's library. The only reason most of those books get donated is because they're boring as hell - or they smell like dead people. I'll buy my own, thank you very much."

He opened his book and immediately turned his face away from her to continue reading.

He failed to notice the look of mild shock on the woman's face, but after she gave his words some further thought, she frowned, clearly upset, before she hid her own face into a book. 

Other people got on the bus, they passed town hall, then the library. Archibald Hopper got up to leave, and so did the young woman. 

As Gold looked up at her, he felt his heart shrink the moment he saw her angry gaze. She was clearly upset by what he had said, and did not nod to him as she usually did, too angry still to forgive his harsh words.

He frowned as the bus rode on. He hadn't been that harsh - had he? 


	3. Beauty and Grace

He had fucked up. Quite a bit.

The girl didn't look at him anymore, didn't bid him a good morning or a good evening or a nice day or anything else that he had gotten used to hearing from her mouth. Her beautiful lips now remained firmly shut as he entered the bus, her eyes cast down in her own book in the morning, and in the evening she dodged his gaze whenever she entered the bus, but just sat down and read her own books.

She no longer tried to see what he was reading, and this disappointed him. Maybe part of him had wanted her to see his books after all - maybe he had wanted to connect with her. 

That morning, he watched her as she got off the bus and headed straight towards the library again. If he had not realized it before, then he did now. It was where she worked. He thought that only Merlin Emrys worked there and could not imagine for the life of him why the town would need two librarians. It just didn't make sense to him. 

But as he watched her, he feared he had been unnecessarily rude to her. After all, working in the library was her job, and he had dissed the books she looked after as though he thought nothing of it.

He closed his shop an hour before lunchtime that day. He was going to push his pride aside and try and make some sort of amends with the woman. Perhaps he could even catch her name if he was lucky. He even took an old tome of Pride and Prejudice with him. It had been stored in his pawn shop for a few years, but he figured that perhaps it would be something the young woman liked. Most women liked Pride and Prejudice, did they not? 

Entering the library, he noticed that there was no one behind the circulation desk, and it was remarkably empty inside. Perhaps it was a good thing that this would allow them some time alone - or perhaps it would make the whole thing more awkward. For a moment he considered walking back out, until he heard a voice.

It was not the voice he had expected. It was a male voice. 

"Mister Gold!" 

Merlin Emrys appeared from behind the shelves. 

"Imagine seeing you here!" he said warmly. "Lost your way to the pawn shop?"

He felt a nervous twitch coming up above his lip, but tried to ignore it. 

"Mister Emrys," he said without warmth. "Are you here alone?"

The young man raised an eyebrow. "Not thinking of robbing me, are you?"

Gold rolled his eyes. "I thought there was a new librarian in town, or were the rumors false?"

He had heard no rumors. He never indulged in rumors. But surely there had to be rumors? There always were when new people arrived in town.

"Oh, Belle you mean? Yeah, she's going to take over my job in January. Completely. I'm heading to Boston to study Literature and needed a replacement. She volunteered."  
Gold remained quiet. Belle. Her name was Belle. That meant the same as 'beauty' in French. Her name had not been ill-picked.

"She's at the elementary school today. Reading to the kids and getting to know all the teachers. We wouldn't have much to do if the elementary schools didn't rely on us for a tiny part of the education they provide."

Gold really wasn't that interested in what Merlin told him. He had wanted to apologize to Belle, to give her a book, but now the other librarian had already spotted it.

"That seems to be an old book you're holding. What is it?"

"A gift," he said begrudgingly. "It came into my possession recently. I'm sure it would be of more use in the library."

He handed Merlin the book, and he immediately seemed impressed. 

"Pride and Prejudice! How old is this book even?"

"How would I know," Gold replied, turning around to leave the library again. 

Merlin frowned as Gold left, not understanding why the man always had to be so grumpy. At times he was even worse than Leroy.

 

He knew perfectly well how old the book had been. One hundred and forty-one years old.  He had personally ironed out the wrinkly corners of the pages and cleaned the leather cover, but now he guessed no one would ever learn what he had done for that book. 

He wondered if Merlin had told Belle about it, if he had shown her the book, and if he had told her who had donated it. 

Yet when she got on the bus that evening, she still did not look at him. His heart sank to his stomach. He had hoped the gift would lift her spirits a bit, but sadly enough it seemed that it had not helped at all. 

Yet when she suddenly pulled a book from her bag, she handled it so delicately that he immediately recognized it for the old tome it was, and his eyes grew wide as he looked at it. 

She had taken the book he had given to the library, and she smiled as she started reading it, and despite himself, he suddenly smiled as well, the graceful way in which she got lost in these stories truly a wonderful thing to behold. 

He waited for the bus to go empty again, until no one was left but the two of them, and mister Dove of course, who never seemed to listen anyway, and whom Gold doubted would ever breathe a word to anyone about what happened on his bus. It wasn't like the man had a social life anyway.

"Are you enjoying the book?" he suddenly asked, and when Belle looked up, he gulped. Her eyes had gone from gentle and hazy to fiery and dangerous in a single second, and it terrified him a bit. 

"Yes it's lovely," she replied harshly. "Smells like dead people, like _all_ our books."

He felt whipped, and as she continued reading the next moment, he didn't know what to say. He felt wronged, but there was little he could do about it. He had started it, after all.

When they eventually reached his stop, he got up from his seat with an audible sigh, limping towards the door, but not before he said: "Have a good evening, Belle."

She had a frown on her face as she looked up, confusion in her eyes as she did not understand how he knew her name. She certainly didn't know his. 

He didn't look at her as he left the bus again, and looked up at the night sky above him. It seemed a very light gray color tonight. There was going to be snow.


	4. No Show Dove

Gold woke up with the idea that his room was lighter than usual, and as he looked through the curtains, he realized why that was so. It had snowed that night. And not a tiny bit either. He should have kept a closer eye on the weather forecast, but he hardly ever spent time watching the news as it was. 

As he got dressed and headed downstairs, he turned it on for once. Good Morning Storybrooke was reporting how schools were to remain closed that days, as well as Town Hall. Not to mention that buses wouldn't be driving either. 

He figured that he could stay home for a day or even a few days. The pawnshop wasn't his main source of income as it was, those would be his tenants, and nowadays Neal was doing most of the work they required from him. 

As more snow was announced, he decided to go outside for a moment before it would fall. He wanted to see if the road was clear and if he would be able to head to town with his own old car, should it be necessary. He doubted very much that the car would start though, but he needed to know whether he was truly stuck or not. 

Putting on his warmest coat, as well as his gloves and scarf, he headed to the street, noticing how there wasn't a single car track on the road. Apparently no one had entered or left Storybrooke since last night - not through this street at least - and as he looked down the road, he suddenly saw a white figure approaching him.

His heart skipped a beat as he realized it was Belle, and he wondered what she could be doing out in this weather. She had her bag around her shoulder, and she was wearing boots - but not snow boots - and he wondered how she wasn't freezing yet.

As she got ever closer to him, he realized she had not noticed him yet, for her eyes had been too focused on the snow beneath her feet. 

"Belle," he called out, and he saw how she jumped, her gaze a little frightened as she suddenly saw him a few meters in front of her. 

He raised his hands defensively as he said: "Sorry for startling you. Where are you going to? You're not thinking of walking to town, are you?"

She frowned, still not figuring out how he had learned her name, and she approached him cautiously. 

"Is that a problem?" she asked, her tone no longer as aggressive as it had been the day before, but she remained wary of him. "Mister Dove didn't show this morning. Can't blame him, with the weather."

"Yeah, well... No reason to pick anyone up, really. Schools are closed - as are the library and Town Hall." 

She seemed confused. 

"The library is closed?"

"Yeah!" He didn't understand how she did not know. "Didn't you watch the news?"

She shrugged. "I don't have reception in my cabin. No telly or internet. And half the time my cell phone doesn't work either. Might be because I still have a foreign number. I should get an American one." 

He had realized that her accent was foreign, he just hadn't been able to place it until now. 

"You're Australian!" 

She raised an eyebrow. "And you're Scottish. So what."

She was being defensive again. Apparently she had not yet forgiven him for what he had said about the library. He was starting to wonder if she ever would. 

"Look, you shouldn't continue on to town. Your boots are no match for this snowy weather, and they said there will be more snow soon. Why don't you come on in? I can put on a rerun of Good Morning Storybrooke. Let you see the news yourself."

He could see her wary gaze still. She was probably trying to figure out if he was being genuine or plotting to kill her. He could hardly blame her. 

"I don't even know your name," she said slowly, contemplating the offer.

"I'm mister Gold. Rumford Gold." He extended his hand to her, and noticed the look of surprise on her face.

"You donated that ancient copy of Pride and Prejudice yesterday!" she cried out suddenly, her mouth dropping as the pieces of the puzzle were finally falling into place. She now knew why he had asked her if she enjoyed the book - and how he had known her name. No doubt that Merlin had mentioned her when he had dropped by. She could not help but feel like perhaps he had donated the book for her sake instead of that of the library itself. 

He smiled gently and averted his eyes, not wanting to talk about his reasoning behind his donation. Suffice to say he was embarrassed of how he had insulted the young woman before. 

"Do you have some tea?" she wondered, and as he nodded, she suddenly smiled. "Then I'd be delighted to come in. Tell me, do you own many old books?"


	5. Snow Visits

Belle had been ecstatic when she had first entered Gold's cabin. It was nearly twice as large as her own, and the clutter made the place much warmer and cozier than hers was. The kitchen and living room were connected, and while he prepared some tea for her, she explored the large bookcase that stood next to the television. She was surprised by the fact that most of the books seemed to be rather new. There were definitely no other hundred-year-old books to discover, but she was pleasantly surprised by the content of his book collection.

"Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy... I would never have guessed you were into myths, magic and science-fiction!" she said full of admiration.

"Need I remind you that those authors were born on the same island I was?" he replied from the kitchen, grinning. 

She smiled to herself, figuring that she had a lot to learn about prejudice. He was not who she had thought he was.

"Ow my God!" she suddenly cried out. "Is that the complete Dragonlance series?"

He chuckled as he poured the both of them a cup of tea, then headed towards his bookcase. 

"Quite sure I'm still missing a few," he admitted, offering her the cup. "But I'm in no rush to get them all at this point. I still need to read about seven that I own." 

"How many are there even?" Belle wondered as she let her fingers wrap around the warm cup. "I read about a dozen when I was younger, but could not find new ones where I lived." 

"Well over a hundred," he replied. 

"Is Raistlin your favorite character too?" she asked eagerly, and for a moment he felt like he was talking to a child, not to a grown woman, but it endeared him. He liked it. 

"He certainly is one of the most fascinating ones," he admitted. 

"Do you have his chronicles too?"

"Two books of him, yes," he said, looking for them before he pulled them out of his bookcase.

"Oh, could I borrow them?" she asked eagerly. "I think I read one when I was younger, but never the other."

He smiled graciously. "Be my guest. It's not like you'll have much else to do in this weather. Might as well make the most of your time off."

She smiled in return. "Yeah... And since I don't have a telly or anything... Books will get me through the day." 

He offered her to sit down and turned on the telly, putting on 'Good Morning Storybrooke' for her so she could watch the weather forecast as well as the other news from Storybrooke.

"Will it really last a week?" Belle wondered after the show was over. "The bad weather, I mean?"

Gold nodded. "Easily. Worst I've seen this weather was three weeks. That was when my son was still in school. The teacher used to call every evening to give him assignments. That was back before the internet was a thing. I don't want to imagine how expensive her phone bill must have been that month."

Belle chuckled, still remembering very well what it had been like to live without the internet from her own childhood. 

"You have a son?" she wondered curiously.

"Yeah. You're probably around his age. He lives in my old house. It's bigger. Fits his family."

"And you live here alone?"

He noticed her curious gaze and could not help but feel a little lost for a moment. Why was it important to her what his marital status was? Was she interested in him in any way? He honestly hoped she was.

"Yes," he replied briefly.

"No wife?" she asked, and now he was certain that she was trying to make sure she knew precisely what kind of man she was dealing with.

"No. My ex abandoned me and my son ages ago. Haven't heard from her in decades."

Belle felt a little bad for pushing the question now. She hadn't often heard of women abandoning their own children, and she could not imagine how hard that must have been on him.

"Did you like your tea?" he suddenly asked, noticing her cup was empty, and she felt like this was her cue to get up. 

"Yes, yes, very much!" She got up and brought the cup to his sink. "I guess I'd better be off now. May I take your Raistlin books with me?"

He nodded graciously. "Of course."

As she gathered her belongings and put on her coat and hat, he walked her out. 

"Belle," he said gently as she was about to leave. "Should you desire some company during this snowy weather, you're welcome to drop by." He didn't dare to look at her as she curiously raised her gaze to his. "Or just feel free to drop by if you want to watch Good Morning Storybrooke again. You can keep an eye on what's going on in town that way." 

She smiled warmly. 

"Thank you. I'll probably drop by again tomorrow then."

He felt his heart jump in his chest. He hadn't expected her to drop by again so soon, but he honestly was not regretting it.

"Great!" he said with a stupid grin on his face. "Until tomorrow then!"

 

For the next few days, Belle waited for the bus every morning. And when it didn't come, she walked on over to mister Gold's place, drank tea with him and watched Good Morning Storybrooke before she would leave again. They talked a little bit with one another about books, but the conversations remained rather superficial. At least until they both admitted to one another that they needed to head to town and stock up on supplies.

Taking Gold's car was out of the question. It wouldn't end well - if they managed to get the thing started in the first place. They would have to walk, and Gold was quick to suggest using his sled. 

"But can you walk that far?" Belle wondered. "With your limp, I mean."

He didn't reply for a moment, fearing that she made a valid point. He probably could make it to town, but returning in the same day would be overkill.

"I can go alone if necessary," Belle said. "I'll bring you what you ask for."

"Nonsense," he muttered. "Though I do not doubt you're fit enough to go to town and get back, your toes would probably freeze off before you get there. You need better boots."

"Then I'll buy some in town," Belle replied, a little annoyed.

"I'm not letting you go alone," he said stubbornly, and that was when an idea popped into his mind. "I was about to suggest that I could stay over at my son's place if I can't make it back, but then I figured out that we could shorten the journey if I ask him to get things from town for us. Then we can pick it up at my old place at the edge of town. It would easily save us five miles again."

Belle liked the sound of that. "And you're sure that's not too much to ask?"

"I'm certain of it."

"Then I have another suggestion. On the way there, I can pull you on the sled. That way you can rest your leg, and when we return with our merchandise, we both walk. I wouldn't want you to sprain a muscle."

Gold frowned again. "You seem to underestimate how much work it is to pull a sled - especially for such a long distance."

Belle shrugged. "It's downhill to town as it is. I don't think it will be that hard, to be honest. And if you feel guilty about wearing me out, there's a very good way in which you can pay me back."

"Oh?" Gold raised one eyebrow as he looked at her, noticing the mischievous gaze in her eye.

"You could give me a relaxing massage. If you're up for it."

It seemed like his heart had started to pound in his throat at those words, and it didn't take too much of his imagination to imagine her skin beneath his flesh. It was doing things to him - most noticeably it was turning his cheeks quite red. 

"Deal?" she asked eagerly, and he could not reply negatively to her hopeful gaze.

"Deal!"


	6. Underneath Warm Hands

Everything went as planned. Gold's son picked up groceries and new boots for Belle in town, and it was awaiting them when they arrived. They rested for well over an hour at the pink estate and were treated to some spaghetti. Belle was quite exhausted already. It hadn't been that hard, pulling Gold on the sled, but just the walk through the snow was tiring. Not to mention that at the first sight of houses, Gold had gotten up from the sled, and had instead leaned on her in order not to fall. The walk had been rather slow, and she hoped it would not be as slow on their way back. It would take hours. 

Luckily, the spaghetti had given them a bit of energy again, and as they were warmed up again, they had good hopes as they started their walk home.

By the time they arrived back at mister Gold's cabin, they were both exhausted, and it took him all the energy he had left to light the fireplace inside his living room while Belle let herself rest in the couch. 

"Would you like that massage now?" he asked, feeling like he still owed it to her, but she shook her head.

"Please, we're both exhausted. We should catch our breath first, don't you agree?"

He nodded as he walked to the telly and turned it on, seeing that Die Hard was about to begin. 

"Is it already eight?" Belle asked, surprised by how long it had taken them to make it to town and back. 

"It's been dark for hours," Gold replied as he plopped down on the couch next to her. "But feel free to stay. If you'd rather sleep here, you're welcome to do so."

"That's kind," Belle said, not finding the idea preposterous or anything of the sort. "I bet it would be freezing in my cabin. The windows are very thin. Takes ages to warm it up."

"Then stay," he insisted, and she nodded warmly. 

They turned their attention to the telly again, watching the old classic as they commented on the cheesy one-liners and Alan Rickman's fake German accent. When the movie ended, they both felt a little bit more rested. 

"Shall I show you to the guest room?" mister Gold proposed, taking his cane from besides the bench and he slowly got up. 

Belle nodded eagerly, curious about the guest room, and followed Rumford into a small room besides his own bedroom. The room was too small for the two-person bed, and the bed itself was pushed in the corner of the room, with not much room around it. There was only a small window in the room and it was a bit colder there than it had been in the living room. The sheets were luxurious and warm though and Belle imagined she'd be quite comfortable. 

"Would you like that massage now?" he asked again, and Belle was surprised that he had asked again. She had thought he would drop it. 

"Would you still like to give it?" she wondered curiously. She did not want to force him into it.

"Well, I promised you one, did I not? I would feel bad not accommodating you. And that would include not giving you a relaxing massage. I really can't express my gratitude for joining me to my son's place. I wouldn't have been able to do it on my own - not without spending a night there. You carried my weight, quite literally..."

"Well... we're neighbors," Belle said a little shyly. "Seems right to help each other a hand."

Rumford smiled. "I'm glad you feel that way. Why don't you get ready for the massage? If you want, you can take a shower to warm your muscles a bit, I'll grab some oil in the meanwhile."

While Belle showered, Rumford prepared the guest room for the massage. By the time Belle returned, wearing his bathrobe over her underwear, she was surprised by how cozy the room looked. He had lit a few candles on the small nightstand, as well as a few that stood on a shelf, and the shadows that the flames cast on the wall were quite warm. On the bed itself lay a large dark red towel, and mister Gold had taken off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. For some reason, Belle thought that he looked even hotter than usual now. 

She casually took off the bath robe, not looking at him as she moved onto the bed and lay down on her stomach. His eyes traveled over her body appreciatively. She was beautiful. So very small, but so very beautiful - perfect even. As he sat beside her, he gently moved her hair to the side so it would not get in the way of his massage, and she noticed how gentle he was with her. 

"May I..." His voice was a little rough as he felt a bit nervous. "May I open your bra? Just so I can massage your back more easily."

Belle smiled warmly and nodded. "Of course..."

As he opened the lock and put the bra straps to the side, he was surprised to see Belle reach up a bit and pull of the bra entirely, putting it beside her as she lay back down again. 

He gulped nervously. He had not expected her to lay topless in front of him, but she didn't seem to have any problems with it at all, even closing her eyes as she sighed gently, waiting for him to begin. 

As he put some oil on his hands, he said: "It is my intention to relax you. If one of the things I do does not relax you, please do let me know."

"I will," she promised softly, and he started his massage.

Her shoulders were the first focus of his massage, before he worked his way to her lower back, and she could feel the strain of earlier that day fall off her body. He took his time as he massaged every inch of her bared skin, and when he was nearly done, he asked: "Would you like me to massage your legs as well?"

She would love for the massage to last even longer, and nodded weakly, unable to resist. 

As he started squeezing the flesh of her thighs, Belle could not help but dream away. The man's hands felt marvelous, so warm and firm at the same time. She would love to feel those exact same hands grab and squeeze her flesh in several other situations. 

By the time he was done, about an hour had passed and Belle hadn't felt as relaxed in ages. When she noticed he was closing the bottle of massage oil again, she was a little disappointed.

"Thank you," he suddenly said, his voice very soft. "I truly enjoyed this."

Belle startled a bit at those words. It did not make sense that he would be the one to thank her after what he had done for her. As she turned her head to look at him, still laying on her stomach, she saw how shy and insecure he looked. 

He was lonely. 

It was written all over his face and she had never been able to read him better than in that moment.

"I should be thanking you," she replied sweetly, wanting to be careful with his feelings. "You are very talented, not to mention kind for offering to massage me."

He blushed as he looked down, not sure how to reply. 

"The pleasure was mine," he insisted in a gentle tone. "I loved every minute of it. You are very beautiful..."

He did not dare to look at her as he said that, and Belle slowly turned around on the bed, rolling to her side and noticing how he was not looking at her, perhaps because he was shy, or perhaps because he wanted to be a gentleman. 

"I'd say you have earned a look," she said as softly as before, though her lips curled up into a cheeky smile. 

When he looked at her face and caught her gaze, it worked infectiously on him. He could not help but smile as well then, and allowed his eyes to travel over her body once more, but only once, admiring her breasts and all that she was. 

"Thank you," he said once more, very grateful, and he suddenly got up and opened a cupboard to take out some extra blankets, wanting her to be comfortable during the night.

"You're lonely sometimes, are you not?" Belle asked carefully, and as she saw how his back froze, she added hastily: "It's nothing to be ashamed of. I'm lonely too sometimes."

As he looked over his shoulder and saw her warm smile, he offered a smile in return again. 

"Then what do you propose we do about that?" he replied in a playful tone.

"I know a remedy for loneliness..." she teased him.

He looked at her again, and saw how she was patting the empty space in the bed besides her. It became a little  harder for him to breathe, and to make sure she did not scare him off completely, she continued: "Don't worry... It's just sleep. But you won't be alone in bed for once. And I can assure you I don't snore."

He chuckled at that remark. "Neither do I."

"Perfect," she said warmly, crawling up and disappearing underneath the sheets, and he felt slightly better now he was no longer distracted by her naked boobs and hardened nipples. 

"You should try it," she continued. "And if you dislike the feeling, you can get out of bed again. No offense taken."

He was unable to say no to that now. He nodded in agreement and excused himself so he could put on his pajamas. They were made of black silk, and when he returned to the candlelit room, he saw how Belle was still laying in the bed, smiling warmly as she saw him approach, not at all offended by his choice to wear clothes. 

"I warmed your spot for you," she said eagerly, and she moved over so he could lay down.

As they lay besides each other, he suddenly said quietly: "Shouldn't I blow out those candles?"

Belle shrugged. "If you wish to sleep now, then you should. But we could still talk a bit, if you like."

He noticed how she moved a little closer to him and put her hand on his chest. She was also trying to worm her way underneath his arm, and when he gave in and lifted it for her, she was by his side in an instant, her head resting against his shoulder. 

As he gazed up at the ceiling, he was thinking, and after a few moments he said: "I can't say I ever expected this when I first saw you on the bus."

Belle chuckled. "Neither did I. Luckily life isn't always predictable."

"Amen to that," he agreed with a smile. 


	7. Sharing Seats

When the bus started driving again the Monday after their small weekend together, Belle smiled as she saw Rumford wasn't reading, instead, he seemed to be waiting for her. 

"Do you mind me sitting next to you?" she wondered before he shook his head and she sat down by his side. 

"Not scared of what people will say?" she continued with a cheeky smile on her face.

Rumford chuckled. "I doubt they'd be able to guess what happened between us this weekend." 

"It was just a bit of touching," Belle replied playfully, and she saw how his gaze shifted to mister Dove, who was just driving the bus. No doubt that his thoughts had drifted off to what had happened the Sunday morning between them, and he must have been afraid Dove could guess what had happened. "Don't worry, he can't hear us," she whispered.

Rumford frowned. "You never know."

Sunday morning had been pretty incredible. He had awoken to whispers of Belle, asking him if she was allowed to repay him the favor of the massage. He had been half-awake only, and had sleepily agreed that he was curious about what she had in mind. The next, she had brought her hand to his erection - something that she had noticed before he had - and jerked him off. Truthfully, it had startled him a little bit, but it had been too good to resist. She had asked him about what he liked and had given him the best orgasm in a lifetime - or at least that was what it had felt like to a man who had been single for over twenty years. 

At first it had felt slow and lazy, but oh so nice at the same time, and by the end of it she had him moaning out her name, grasping the sheets as he came all over his stomach, while Belle pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and whispered that he had deserved it. 

The memory was still hard to shake. And he was afraid people would just look at his face and be able to read it from his expression.

"No, you don't understand," Belle insisted. "He really can't hear us. He's hard-hearing." 

Rumford looked at her in surprise. "What?"

"I'm not joking!" she said as seriously as she could. "He told me on the first day I took the bus. I had so many questions and he told me he could not hear very well so he asked me to talk a bit slower. That's also why he never says anything when people bid him a good evening with their backs turned to him. He can't read their lips then, and he can't read lips anyway when he's watching the road."

"Is he completely deaf then?" Gold asked in a whisper, still afraid he could hear. 

"No, it's not that bad. I think." She wasn't entirely sure. "He said he used to hear normally, but suffered some head trauma in the army that caused his hearing loss. He says he has moderate loss of hearing, and that he can sometimes still understand people when he turns off the engines of the bus, but while the bus is driving it's like he can't hear everything. And he's not as good at reading lips as some people since he had to learn it when he was a bit older than most." 

He was impressed by what she knew of mister Dove. "He was in the army? He's a veteran then!"

Belle nodded, and Rumford sat in stunned silence for a few moments. He had only known mister Dove as the bus driver for the past decade or so, but he had never imagined that the man had once had a different life before that. 

"He must be lonely too then," he acknowledged quietly.

"I suppose that everyone on this bus knows their lonely moments," Belle replied gently, taking his hand and squeezing it.

His lips curled up into a smile. "I'm no longer as lonely as before. I can't say that I regretted inviting you over for a night."

She was very pleased to hear that and beamed proudly. 

"I must say that I liked it as well. I can't wait for the next time there will be snow."

He chuckled. "Winter has hardly even started here in Storybrooke. It's not even Christmas! We'll get more opportunities for playing good neighbors, I'm sure of that."

"Ah... Playing good neighbors, is that what you call it?" Belle teased him, and he could not resist a smile.

They sat quietly besides each other, holding hands while mister Dove could not see it, and only when the bus stopped for the next passenger did they let go of each other's hands. 

Doctor Hopper seemed a bit surprised when he saw the two of them sitting together, and so did Marco, and Mulan for that matter. None of them had expected the two of them to sit so close, yet it was a sight they had to get used to from that point onwards.

Every morning and every evening, they would sit besides each other in silence - at least until everyone had left the bus. And then once they were alone, they would talk, hold hands, and spend a few moments of bliss together, just staring out the window as they spoke of what was important in their lives. 

He often considered inviting her over, but truthfully he was a little scared. She had become his best friend in a relatively short span of time, and they had spent a wonderfully arousing night together - the night he had massaged her and she had treated him to that wonderful hand-job in the morning. He was afraid that a kiss or more would spoil it though, and that she would grow tired of him. He wasn't sure if he could handle the rejection.

Belle had waited for him to invite her over, but he had not done such a thing. Secretly she was hoping for the snow to return, but they had no such luck, and Belle often spoke of her grievances with global warming to him. In fact she was just mostly frustrated that the bus was still driving and she had no excuse to visit him at home. As another weekend with wonderful weather was announced, Belle could bear it no longer, and with Christmas approaching, she invited him for dinner. 

"If you have no plans for Christmas evening and would like to drop by tomorrow evening, I'm having an Australian barbecue at my place."

He was surprised by the invitation. "Will there be more Aussies there?"

"No, sadly, it's just me. And you, if you decide to come. If you decide to stay home, then it will be an all-Aussie Christmas barbecue for me indeed. But it will also be very sad cause I'll be all alone."  
He honestly felt bad for her, imagining her to be all alone on Christmas eve. He honestly would rather spend the evening with her, but he could not pass up the opportunity to tease her a little further.

"Isn't it too cold for a barbecue?" he asked suspiciously.

"It's never too cold for a barbecue!" she protested fiercely. "Besides, it almost feels like summer. And here I was thinking I was going to be spending the entire winter in snow."

"Alas, no such luck," he replied in a good-humored chuckle. "But I will take you up on your offer. I have no plans for Christmas Eve as it is, and eh... it will be nice. Not being lonely on such a holiday."

Belle smiled widely. She had secretly feared being alone for Christmas. Merlin had already left for Boston - and so she now had no other people she considered friends in town. None but him. 

"I look forward to it," she admitted softly. "I've always liked Christmas and I think it's important that I can celebrate it with important people in my life."

His heart fluttered as she said that. He was important to her! He could not hide his grin.

As the bus drove on, Gold lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a tender kiss to it, a kiss of gratitude. 

She returned the favor, lifting the back of his hand to her own lips, and he found it hard to breathe as he watched her press a kiss to his skin. 

Christmas eve would be interesting for sure.


	8. The Winter Barbecue

Belle had told him where her cabin was, and as he walked over to her place on Christmas evening, he carried a bag with him with a few presents for the host. It only seemed like the proper thing to do, though he had regretted not having more time to go shopping for her.

She was already outside when he arrived, standing on the small terrace of her little cabin, warming her hands by the barbecue. He could already smell the charcoal and smiled as she noticed him and waved. 

"No trouble finding the place?" she asked him as she walked up to him, and he shook his head.

"None at all. Your instructions were clear. Where may I put these?"

He lifted the bag with presents and she was a little surprised he had brought any. He immediately handed her a bottle of wine, a suggestion for a drink. With a wide grin, she took it from his hands, and she beckoned him to follow her. 

She invited him into her small home, and as he curiously looked around, he felt himself grow sadder by the moment. His poor Belle hardly had anything to call her own. No doubt that she had not been able to bring many belongings with her when she had moved to Storybrooke. The old wooden furniture seemed to be as old as the cabin itself, and the couch looked very old. She had put some warm fleece blankets on top of them - probably to hide just how old and broken the couch really was.

There were some logs in the fireplace and the fire was burning brightly, but still it felt rather cold inside, and he noticed she did not have an extra heater indoors. 

The kitchen itself seemed to have been equipped in the seventies, and it had an ugly orange color that didn't look particularly appetizing. 

But for what it was worth, Belle had tried to decorate a little bit. The old kitchen walls had several posters against them - posters from books that she had no doubt gotten from the library - to serve the purpose of hiding the ugly wall. There were also a few Christmas cards hanging from a ribbon against the wall - all cards from family back home. She had found a few branches of ivy in the forest, and they lay in a glass bowl on the old wooden table, with a few tiny Christmas balls in-between. There was no real Christmas tree, but she did have a tiny wooden Christmas tree - a flat one - lit up with a few Christmas lights. It was probably something she had bought for a few dollars at mister Clark's shop - and though it didn't look fancy, it was at least cozy. 

Part of him wanted to invite her to his place - where he had an actual Christmas tree - but he did not dare to, knowing it would be incredibly rude. And perhaps she was fine with this, and he was just the one with the problem, not the other way around. 

She noticed how he was looking around, and she said shyly: "I know it's not much... But I'm sure I'll be able to make it cozier once I live here a while longer. I just need to save up for it."

His heart broke. If it wasn't Christmas eve, he would have taken her shopping right then and there, and he would have paid her for anything she could have wanted. A new couch, new chairs, paint, wallpaper, curtains, anything she could have possibly needed. 

"I believe my son is thinking of getting a new couch. If you want, I'll ask him to bring his old one to you. It's not really that old, and it's still in good condition. It's a really good sleeping couch."

Belle smiled, finding that very considerate. 

"Thinking of inviting yourself for a sleepover?" she teased him, and he chuckled, always amused by her little quips. 

She went into the kitchen again and opened the fridge, and luckily he noticed that she was not lacking in food - quite the contrary - and he wondered how the two of them were going to eat so much meat, and was even surprised to see some kangaroo on the menu. 

"It must have cost a small fortune to get that to Storybrooke," he remarked, quite in awe of the gesture.

"I couldn't celebrate Christmas without it," she said with a shy smile. "It's part of the tradition - at least for me and my family. I miss them..."

Her gaze grew even sadder as she took the meat from the fridge, and as he noticed it, he put his hand on her shoulder. 

"Your family might not be here, but I am. And though no one needs to tell me what kind of a prick I can be at times, I promise I'll do my very best to make you have a great Christmas..."

Belle found those words heart-warming, and she gave him a kiss on his cheek, grateful for how considerate he was.

"Thank you..."

He followed her outside, where she put the meat on the barbecue, and now that the subject had been breached, he had to admit that he was very curious about why she had come to Storybrooke precisely - of all towns out there. 

"Belle... Why did you come to Storybrooke? Out of all places in the United States you could have gone to... Did you move straight from Australia to Storybrooke, or did you live somewhere else first?"

"Well, I guess I never told you how I got here," she answered with a sad smile. "I met Merlin ages ago, when he was eighteen and backpacking through Australia. I was his age, and I secretly wanted to do the exact same thing, only in the US then. But my dad would not allow it. Merlin worked in the same diner as I did during those summer holidays, and so we really got to know each other. We had a few things in common and we became good friends. I told him that I could not go to the US for backpacking, and that if I ever went, I'd need to be older and have a job. He told me he'd keep an eye out for that. He left again after that summer, but we staid in touch over the internet, sending regular emails to one another. It's been fifteen years since that summer and since I last saw him, but the moment he decided to give up on his job as a librarian to go and study in Boston, he thought of me. He was in charge of appointing a new librarian, and he kept the spot open for me. I bought a plane ticket, traveled to Boston, where I staid for about three days, and then I headed straight to Storybrooke, where Merlin showed me around and brought me to this cabin he had arranged for me. And the next day, I was on the bus and saw you for the first time."

Mister Gold could not help but feel angry at Merlin Emrys for picking such a horrible cabin for her. She simply deserved better than this.

"Was there nothing in the center of town where you could have lived? Something a bit more comfortable?" he wondered, his frustration at her living arrangements clear from his tone, and she felt moved by it. 

"He told me of a few places where I could stay, but I picked this one. It was the cheapest of the lot - not unimportant when you earn as little as a librarian - and it was isolated in a beautiful location. I always wanted some adventure in the great wide somewhere... I suppose this is it."

She still seemed to be sad as she said that, and he immediately reached out for her hand, taking it and squeezing it gently. She hadn't chosen adventure - she had chosen isolation and poverty, or that was what it looked like to him. 

"Belle, if you're unhappy here, then all you need to do is say so and I'll do anything to make you feel better!" he said urgently. "Do not be afraid to tell me!"

Those words startled her a little, and as she gazed into his serious eyes, tears came to her own. She suddenly hugged him as she cried against his jacket, feeling a little miserable. 

"You're already making me feel better," she admitted in-between her tears. "But I've just been a little homesick and it's only getting worse now, with the holidays and missing out on all that I loved."

"I'm sure they are missing you too... But don't think too much about it... It's different than what you're used to, but it's an adventure, right?"

He hoped his words could cheer her up, but she did not stop crying straight away.

"I'm starting to feel like my time has passed, like I should have done this when I was younger and when my roots weren't as important to me.  I always dreamed of adventure, and now that I'm living the biggest one of my life, I feel scared and all I want to do is hide in my books. I just feel so alone sometimes." 

He hugged her close, finding it easy to relate to her, even if he had never gone through anything similar. She was just able to word it so well, and he could feel the distress in her shoulders, telling him of her pain and misery. 

"There is no need to feel alone," he said softly. "You may always come to me. My door will always be open for you. And as for the holidays, tomorrow, you can come to my place around noon. My son will pick us up to celebrate Christmas with them. I'm sure they would not mind seeing you again."

She hugged him closer as he suggested that. It was already making the ache in her heart disappear. 

"Thank you," she sobbed gently, and he cradled her head as they stood there out on the porch, the meat cooking on the barbecue as Belle cried her eyes out. 

It wasn't precisely the barbecue he had imagined when she had invited him, but he was glad that she could get it all out. He still didn't fully understand Belle, even if he knew that he loved all of her already, whether he knew her or not. She was a kindred spirit in this strange, cruel world. He hoped she would be a part of his life for a long time to come.


	9. Books of Anne

Once the meat was cooked, they headed inside again, where Belle got out some potato salad and vegetables from the fridge, and she no longer cried as they ate by the small kitchen table. To make it a little cozier, she lit a few candles, and he smiled appreciatively. 

"I'm not sure if this is the right thing to say," he said as he had given it some thought. "But despite your own misery, I am really happy you came here..."

Belle raised an eyebrow, not sure whether to be impressed or insulted by that admission.

As he looked into her eyes, he smiled apologetically. "My life has been so dull these past decades. So black and white... You've brought some much-needed color into it."

It wasn't an insult at all, and she smiled warmly, glad to hear it. 

He wasn't done yet, and he continued: "You've made the end of this year a bit of an adventure for me."

"How so?" she wondered curiously.

"Well... You were quite mysterious, the first weeks when I saw you on the bus. A foreign beauty that I knew nothing about - living in the middle of the forest - always reading books."

Belle chuckled. 

"To be honest, you were quite mysterious as well. For the same reasons, I suppose. A handsome gentleman, intelligent and always reading books I couldn't read the titles from. You have no idea how curious you made me with that."

"Oh, I knew..." he muttered in a small grin, and as Belle raised an eyebrow at that response, he quickly continued: "I mean, I saw you looking at me a few times."

"Well, I hoped I could get to know you - see who my neighbor really was - and then when I finally plucked up the courage to speak to you, you insulted the library and my work so badly that I just could not forgive you. I really thought I'd never speak to you again after that."

Rumford felt guilty to hear her say that, and he continued gently: "I was a fool. I should have known you worked at the library, but I hadn't figured it out just yet - not until after I insulted you so badly, I guess. That's why I came to the library with that old copy of Pride and Prejudice. I just... I wanted to say sorry."

Belle smiled. "I figured as much. Not straight away, I mean, but once I realized you were the one that had donated the copy. Merlin told me it had been a "mister Gold" - but how was I to know who that was?"

He chuckled. "Well... I'm glad you figured it out eventually. And that we're talking now."

"Doing a bit more than talking too," Belle said teasingly, and as she noticed how he blushed, she quickly added: "I mean... just visiting each other and sharing more with one another than just bus drives. I don't know how I would have survived this past month without you to talk to those few minutes a day."

She did not want to give him the impression that she only wanted a relationship with him. His friendship meant everything to her, and she was a little scared of pushing for more. She was too afraid she'd push him away if she admitted her own feelings for him. After all, he had not invited her to his house ever since that morning in his guest room.

"And... I think I should say sorry for the way I came on to you when you invited me over... I realize I must have behaved very strangely in your eyes."

He kept quiet as he looked at her. She wasn't wrong about what she said - he still did not fully understand what had come over her.

"I just felt lonely... But I have always enjoyed our talks."

"I have enjoyed our talks too," he agreed, carefully looking into her eyes to see if he could read more. He was still confused by those things she had done. Like when she had suggested to him to give her that massage - or how she had urged him to sleep with her in his arms - and then when she had jerked him off the following morning. He still did not understand how those things had happened in that order, without there being a kiss or a declaration of love. What was he to her anyway? What was she trying to be to him? Friends with benefits? Or something else? Was he reading it all wrong? He truly did not know what she wanted. Was it just about easing the loneliness, or was he special to her? His worst fear was that she would use him - as people had so often used him in the past. But at the same time, he felt like that wasn't her style, that she wasn't someone who could use anyone. 

They continued to eat their dinner in relative silence, and when they were both done, he went into the bag again and got out one of the gifts for her.

"I'd say you have earned this..." he said with a small smile on his face, handing her the book-shaped present. 

She was too curious to wait much longer, and opened the present with a wide smile on her face, delicately unwrapping the red paper around it to reveal another old hardcover book. She gasped as she read the title 'Anne of Green Gables', and immediately looked inside the book to figure out how old it was. It seemed to be ancient.

"I thought you'd like this book," he said shyly. "I mean, it's about a girl moving into a strange, but quaint little town... And without really intending to do so, the boy who ends up as her best friend, insults her quite fiercely when they first meet..."

Belle gulped as she listened to those words, and as she looked up into his shy eyes, she noticed the blush on his face. 

"I know the story," she admitted breathlessly, her voice low as she was afraid to startle him. "But Gilbert doesn't just end up as her friend, if you know the sequels."

"I know them," he admitted too, looking into her eyes to figure out what she was trying to tell him. 

"It takes her a while to figure out what she feels for him..." she added carefully. "Like... three books."

He shyly dug into the bag he had taken with him and pulled out another two book-shaped presents, and Belle smiled warmly as she realized how much he was spoiling her. 

"I never really apologized to you," he continued shyly. "For what I said about the library."

"Not literally," Belle acknowledged. "But the message was clear enough... I hope you realize I forgave you..."

"I wasn't sure," he admitted sheepishly.

"Well... Rest assured... You are forgiven." She shyly looked down again, before she turned the book around and looked up at him again. "How old are these books?"

"They date from 1946."

Belle's eyebrows rose. It was another impressive feat. The book seemed to be in perfect condition still. 

"And eh... What you're trying to tell me is... that you would not mind being the Gilbert to my Anne?"

She was blushing as she asked him that question, and as she saw his red cheeks, she could not help but hope that that was precisely what he had been trying to tell her.

He gulped. "I'm not really like Gilbert, Belle," he said shyly, dodging the question. "I'm not your age. I'm not a handsome teacher or something of the sort. If anything, I feel more like... like some sort of phantom of the opera. Living in isolation... Looking over this beautiful young woman, and..." He hardly dared to say it. "I think that I love her, even if I don't think that's what she wants from me at all."

Belle felt a little alarmed by that confession. So he did not think she was able to love him? He thought that she - like Christine - would pick a man her own age and just use the phantom for music lessons?

"I never shipped Raoul and Christine," she insisted stubbornly. "The story would have been much better if she had picked the phantom. I think I would have."

His heart fluttered in his chest, and he looked on with a dry mouth as she put down the book he had gifted her and stood up from her seat, moving over towards him.

Instead of moving his chair back, she gently pushed the small table away from him before she sat down in his lap, and she gently caressed his cheek, looking into his eyes with a warm smile. 

"Stop me if you don't want this," she said carefully, fearing for a moment that he would stop her indeed as she moved her lips closer to his, and she had never felt her heart beat fiercer in her chest than it did in the moment their lips met. 

They were both completely still for a moment, their lips gentle and sweet against one another, until he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her a little closer to him, his kiss growing fiercer as he tried to show her how much he wanted it.

She put her hands in his neck, playing gently with his hair as they continued their kissing, and when their lips finally parted, he was quick to continue his kisses - but this time in her neck instead. 

She gasped in longing.

"What about dessert?" she asked, closing her eyes in approval of what he was doing.

"To hell with dessert," he muttered. "You're all the dessert I want."


	10. A New Kind of Love

It didn't take too long for them to leave the kitchen seat, but when he tried to push her towards the couch, he felt some resistance. 

"Not the couch," she muttered, and he froze for a moment as he wondered what she meant. Did she not want to be more comfortable as they continued making out?

"It would probably break under our combined weight," she explained, and he shook his head with a small chuckle. 

"You really need a new couch."

She smiled. "My bed won't break. And eh... maybe you should open your present too?"

He had not realized that she had bought him a present, and when she opened a cupboard and got out a gift wrapped especially for him, he smiled. He could not have asked for more than their sweet kisses and their clumsy declaration of love, but he knew that he would love any present that came from her. 

It were definitely clothes, or at least a blanket, he figured as he felt the soft present in his hands, and as he unwrapped it, he saw that it were dark blue pajamas - not silk, as he usually wore - but warm cotton, made especially for cold winters. 

"I was going to say that you could wear it when it snows, but you don't really need it in your cabin. It's not as cold as mine... Secretly I was hoping you'd stay over... perhaps?"

She admitted it so honestly that he could not help but feel endeared by it, and as he kissed her again, eager for more kisses, she was the one to break the kiss before they were too distracted to do anything else.

"Come, I'll show you the bathroom," she told him. "You can put it on there. There's a little heater there so it's not too cold there. My room, unfortunately, is."

She took him through her bedroom, which was very dark as the shutters were closed to keep out the worst cold, and as she turned on the old lamp that hung from the ceiling, he realized that she had nothing but a large closet and a big mattress on the floor. That was it for as far as it concerned furniture - and then there was a night-reading lamp that stood on the floor. Luckily her sheets and blankets looked very warm and comfortable, for it was a very cold room indeed, and he understood why he would need the pajamas. It would simply be too cold without them. 

"As I said," she said apologetically. "My bed won't break."

He made a mental note to get her a decent bed, and he hoped the mattress was a good one.

As he headed into the bathroom, he changed out of his clothes and into the pajamas as quickly as he could, and when he entered the bedroom again, he left the bathroom door open to allow some of its heat to slip into the bedroom. He saw how Belle had also changed into warmer pajamas, and he noticed how the candles that had stood on the kitchen table before were now standing on the floor in another corner of the room, far away from where the sheets could catch fire, but still close enough to provide a bit of romantic lighting. The big lamp had been turned off, but that did not dim his desire for her.

As she saw how cold he was, she moved into the bed, lifting the sheets and blankets for him, and he lowered himself on his knees next to her to crawl in bed with her, glad when the heavy blankets covered the both of them again. 

"I'm sorry it's so cold," she said apologetically. "And that I can't offer you a decent bed. But I hope the mattress isn't too hard for you?"

"No, it's perfect," he assured her honestly. He wanted nothing more than to taste her lips again, but was afraid it would be rude to interrupt her while she was still talking.

"We have three blankets on top of us now. I find that it's warm enough to sleep in most nights. I try not to use the heater too much. It uses so much electricity... And I'm afraid it will break if I work it too hard."

He nodded, taking her word for it, and as he brought his mouth to hers, he was glad she immediately returned the kiss, eager to continue where they had left off. 

She rubbed his back underneath the blankets, trying to make him feel warm despite the coldness in the room, and he wrapped the blankets firmer around them both as he covered her body with his. He would keep her warm that way, and determined to make him feel warmer as well, she wrapped her arms and legs around him, hugging him close as they kissed. 

His erection had already sprung alive the moment he had lowered himself onto the mattress, but he wasn't sure how much further they could take this tonight. The room was cold and he had no desire to undress, or to have Belle undress for him. 

But as their kisses continued, Belle's hands did not sit still. She opened the buttons of his pajama blouse, and soon her hand was roaming over his stomach and chest. As he broke the kiss and looked down between them, he noticed Belle's pajama had buttons as well, and though he had the intention to unbutton them, Belle beat him to it. As he looked on, she unbuttoned them all and opened the blouse. The sight was one he hoped to see many times over, and he did not stare at her hardened nipples for too long, for the longer their bodies were not touching, the more they cooled down in the cold air. Eagerly, he brought one of his hands to her breast to squeeze it, licking his lip hungrily as he did so.

Belle's soft moans of approval were directly responsible for how wet his member was becoming. She didn't reach out for it straight away - instead they lay there kissing and touching each other for what seemed like a small hour before she finally brought her hand into his trousers to feel how wet he was for her. 

"Take off my pants," she whispered in his ear, and he was her obedient slave as he eagerly moved to sit between her legs and pulled off her pants as quickly as he could, not wasting time before he covered her body with his again, this time with his own pants pulled down until underneath his bum. He let his throbbing erection stroke her wet slit a few times, feeling how she opened her legs for him and wrapped them around him, until the angle was just right and he was able to slide inside of her without any effort. 

"I don't know if I'll be able to last long," he muttered before he had even begun to move inside of her, but it was a fair warning. 

"No matter," she whispered in his ear. "I'm glad we're doing this regardless. And I've enjoyed our making out very much..."

"As have I," he admitted with a sheepish smile, and she giggled as she saw it. 

He was endeared by her, but he wanted to check one thing first, before he continued. 

"Belle... When it snowed... When we shared the bed at my place... Did you... Did you want this too? The kisses and eh... intercourse?"

She smiled gently, remaining quiet for a small while before she replied: "I don't know. I think so. I don't think I would have stopped you, had you gone for more. I just... I wanted to feel more than what I did. To have an adventure that actually felt good - instead of feeling like my adventures were all failures."

It was the closest thing to an explanation he had gotten for her behavior that day, and it even made some sense to him.

He admired her beauty as she lay underneath him, and decided that he had to try his hardest to please her as well. Though it would require all his self-control, he was going to try to make her come first. This young beauty was allowing him so much more than he deserved, and he should be ashamed of himself if he could not bring her to a release. 

Instead of going fast or hard, he did quite the opposite, and pushed in slow, but deep, her heavy, slow moans enough to tell him that she was getting some form of pleasure from it. He made sure to put extra weight against her clitoris as he brushed up against her, and after a few minutes he noticed how her cheeks were turning rather red. He wondered if she was getting close, and as he buried his face in her neck, he sucked gently on her skin, all the while riding against her, not immediately noticing how the candles went out as he had had his eyes closed.

"The candles are out," she muttered, smelling the faint scent of sulfur before it passed again, and she could hardly see anything in the darkness of the room.

"That's alright," he muttered against her ear. "As beautiful as you are, now is not the time to admire your beauty. It's much too cold to move out from underneath these blankets..."

"Amen to that," she replied, trying to lift his chin so her lips could meet his again, and she rocked against him at a steady pace, making it a little harder on him not to come. 

He broke the kiss again, fearing he was going to come if they continued like this, and pulled out of her, not entirely sure what to do. 

"A little break," he muttered. "I want this to last."

She was endeared by that gesture, and gently tried to flip him over, taking the top position for a change. 

He obeyed her wish and as he lay beneath her, she spoiled him with more kisses and gently moved her hands over his chest and stomach.  In the complete darkness of the room, he closed his eyes and enjoyed it. Her fingers were like a soft fire on his skin, and despite the fact that he was laying on a mattress, he felt like he needed nothing more. He would give up all his belongings if it meant he could experience this bliss for the rest of his life. 

He would give her anything she asked for - and more. And even though he had often told himself he would never fall in love again, now that he was, he found that he could not change his very being. He was going to smother her with his love, as was in his nature to do so. 

But Belle was very similar in that regard. She was already spoiling him, being her attentive self as she tried to excite him, and there wasn't anything she wouldn't do for him. Heck, if the snow would return, she knew that she would carry him to town through the snow herself, just because she loved him so much. She didn't voice the way she felt, afraid he would find her too direct, but she could sense from his touches and kisses that he felt very similar already. 

Since she knew how important it was to him that she came first, she rubbed herself against him, coming in a matter of minutes, whimpering his name. He felt relief flood over him as her climax squeezed around him, glad she had come, and once she had caught her breath again, she continued moving over him, kissing his neck so passionately that it took him no effort at all to come a few minutes later, his arms wrapped around her back, holding her close to him as he panted from his release. 

She kissed his cheek a few times, and he could sense how she was smiling against his skin. It did not matter, for he was smiling too, and he cradled her head with his hand, bringing her lips to his for a few more sweet kisses. He did not want to slide out of her just yet - but his soft member slipped out of her, causing the both of them to shudder for a moment. 

"I'll get you a towel," she whispered sweetly, and as she rolled out of bed and disappeared into the bathroom for a little while - also to clean herself up - he waited patiently underneath the blankets - trying not to leave a sticky mess anywhere. The light that shone from the bathroom illuminated her silhouette when she returned to him, and instead of letting him clean up himself, she did it for him. 

"You're spoiling me," he muttered.

"I intend to spoil you a lot more," she replied honestly, smiling at him. "If you let me, that is."

He was intrigued by that, quite enjoying the sensation of her rubbing the warm towel against his sensitive skin. "Oh?"

"I'll make you breakfast, walk you home, perhaps even treat you to a massage of my own... And more... Anything you want. Ask me, and I'll happily oblige."

He sat up a bit, bringing his face closer to hers, and they shared a sweet kiss. 

"Thank you," he whispered. "I've never felt this loved before."

She smiled happily. "Good. Because I've never loved like this before."


	11. The Outsiders

They both kept their word. Belle spoiled Rumford with a wonderful breakfast, a walk home and a lovely massage in his own bed - and a little bit more than that too. 

Rumford took Belle with him to his family's Christmas celebration, and though he started the afternoon by introducing her as "a good friend", by the evening Emma, Baelfire and Henry all knew that Belle and Rumford were madly in love with one another, even if they did not admit it yet in front of them. 

Baelfire's old couch was brought to Belle's cottage not many days after that, and Rumford ordered new furniture for her as well - including a proper bed. And when snow finally returned to Storybrooke, Belle was invited to stay over at his place, for it would be too cruel to let her sleep in the cold and old cabin. Not to mention that he loved having her in his arms, and even when they clung together so tightly during the night, they both slept better than ever before. 

Mister Dove was one of the first in Storybrooke to notice the change in their relationship. He saw how they got on the bus together - sometimes at Belle's stop, the other times at Rumford's stop. They even held each other's hand, no longer hiding it from their bus driver, and mister Dove did not remark on it. He pretended not to care about it at all, but he was secretly happy for the two. 

It took the rest of town a little longer to figure it out, but not too much longer. Rumford had now become a regular visitor of the library, often dropping by during his lunch break, even picking up sandwiches for Belle at Granny's place. He took her shopping on a few occasions, and spoiled Belle rotten. And then, when they took the bus home again, they would link their hands together, not saying much while other people were on the bus, but always touching. 

Sometimes, when they were on all alone, Belle let her hand travel to his inner thigh, gently stroking the inside of his leg in order to tease him. It always worked - sometimes a little too much - and he'd sit in the bus with flushed cheeks, trying not to moan or give into temptation.

His Belle was quite adventurous indeed. She was relentless in teasing him when they were alone on the bus - but also the library and his pawn shop weren't entirely safe. 

He didn't mind it as much when she teased him in the pawn shop. He'd just lock the door and take her to the back room, undressing her and ravaging her while she bit her lip in approval, those little shags the funnest adventures they had - and they wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. 

Though he would often complain about her inappropriate timing, he actually enjoyed it a lot more than he let on. He felt wanted and desired again, and thoughts of reuniting with Belle in the evening helped him through the long days at work. 

Belle sometimes felt a little awkward when he bought her so many things - like the new furniture, an extra heater and all the clothes she could possibly want for - but she made sure that she repaid him in her own way. She gave him all the time he wanted - and she knew in her heart that she wanted nothing more than to spend that time on him too. He often told her that she did not need to have sex with him if she did not want to, but she always wanted to, not understanding how he could not see how desirable he was. And in those weeks that she was cursed with her period, she made sure to spoil him in other ways - giving him massages - baking him the most wonderful desserts - giving him more of her now renowned hand-jobs in the morning.

He truly couldn't complain about any of it. Neither could she. 

They were both still isolated from the rest of Storybrooke - but at least they were isolated together - and they were perfectly fine with that.

When summer came, he surprised her with a trip home and back. He had contacted her father behind her back and arranged the plane tickets, as well as a ride from the airport to her old home - and he was welcomed by Maurice French without any hostile feelings. The man had been relieved that his daughter had found a benefactor - and he truly did not care about mister Gold's age. 

"I always knew she would one day come home with an older man," he had admitted. "She never really seemed to hit it off with boys her age."

In Storybrooke, Neal and Emma really did not mind it that Belle was their age. All that mattered, was that both she and mister Gold were happier than ever before. Belle was also wonderful with Henry, and a welcome participant to the family dinners every Sunday.

A little over a year after Belle had come to Storybrooke, she stood waiting for the bus one evening, surprised when she noticed that Rumford had not taken a seat yet, but was standing up, waiting for her as he stood next to mister Dove. As she and several other passengers got on, he took her hand and guided her to their usual spot. But instead of sitting down besides her when she did, he suddenly got down on one knee, and Belle was too surprised to realize what was going on straight away.

Even mister Dove had turned around in his seat and was looking at them with a grin as Rumford took a small box from his jacket and opened it, revealing a beautiful diamond ring. 

Belle's mouth dropped immediately, knowing what was coming, and tears of joy sprung to her eyes. There were also small tears in Rumford's eyes, and his voice trembled as he began to speak. 

"It's been a year since I first saw you on this bus..." he said gently, and even though everyone was listening, he did not mind that. "I remember you were wearing a white woolen hat and your white winter coat, and you offered me such a beautiful smile that I immediately fell in love with you - right there and then."

Belle was blushing, remembering the moment herself. She had been charmed by him - intrigued by this beautiful older man as he had sat down not too far from her. 

"As the year has gone by, I have only fallen deeper in love with you. You know my family and I had the fortune to meets yours in Australia this summer. Without you knowing it, I already asked your father for his approval, and since he already gave it to me, I now want to ask you this... Belle... Will you marry me?"

Tears were in her eyes as she emotionally nodded her reply. "Yes! Yes, of course!"

A relieved smile washed over Rumford's face, and he got up again, welcoming Belle into his arms as she got up from her seat and kissed him.

There was an applause from the other passengers, Mulan howled, and mister Dove was laughing. 

The moment they sat down again, the others could not shut up, the bus continued driving again, and Marco asked: "Are we invited to the wedding?"

Belle and Rumford laughed, truly not knowing what they were going to do.

They married in spring, and though they did not hold a grand party - for they did not have that many friends - they did organize a memorable bus trip to the town hall. Mister Dove was driving the bus, as usual, and he was even wearing a fancy suit for the occasion, giving Belle a thumbs-up when he saw how beautiful she looked in her wedding dress. 

As Belle and Rumple sat down in the front row seats, more people got on. Belle's father was there, as was Merlin and Emma, Neal and Henry. The regular passengers of the bus hopped on at their usual stops, and all joined them to the town hall, where they witnessed the marriage between Belle French and Rumford Gold. 

After the reception, they headed outside again so they could head to mister Gold's cabin for a dinner with family, and they found mister Dove sitting on his knees behind the bus, attaching strings with cans on them to the bumper, and when he noticed the happy couple and got up from his knees, Belle and Rumple smiled as she saw the large sticker mister Dove had put on the back window for the occasion. "Just Married!" it said, and Belle and Rumford laughed, appreciating Dove's gesture more than anything. 

"Thank you," Belle said warmly, making sure to look mister Dove in the eyes, and he smiled warmly, winking at her before he said: "You're welcome!" 

As the family got on the bus, Belle and Rumford soon followed, linking their hands together, smiling as they looked down and saw the beautiful rings they now wore as a symbol of their union. 

"I love you," Belle whispered gently, and Rumford leaned in to kiss her forehead.

"And I love you," he replied, offering her his arm. "Come, we should not keep our guests waiting. Are you up for another bus ride?"

"With you?" she asked playfully. "Always." 

 

 

**The end.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your warm reception to the story. <3 Glad you all let me know how much you liked it. Be sure to check out my other stories too, there are plenty more!


	12. FANART GIFTED BY NIA-NITA

Look at this everybody!  
Wonderful art, gifted by [nia-nita](http://nia-nita.tumblr.com/post/136317381688/the-bus-lovers-now-complete)!  
She is amazing, so...  
[Follow her on Tumblr!](http://nia-nita.tumblr.com/)


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